The fives times Castiel kissed Dean Winchester
by WibblyWobbly-TimeyWimey
Summary: Dean never expected Castiel to take the first step, but he did. Then four more times soon after. Slight blood!kink because I can't help it, set around I don't know when, swearing included. Rated T jic.
1. The First

Aw, you guys are cute. I appreciate the reviews and shizzle. Weren't expecting it, I must admit, but it's pleasant all the same. I have nooooo idea where the fuck this is going but whatevs. I have no proofreader by the way, so y'know, bear with.

Enjoy!

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There is a voice. It's gruff, and kind of attractive, something that makes his chest feeling heavy, although that could be the object that seems to be pressing there. Dean tries to focus and discovers it's a bloodied hand. His first thought is Sam, but of course Sam is having a sweet ass time of it, snoring away like the damn lazy giant he is in the motel.  
The voice sounds again, though this time, he can distinguish the noise as his name. The voice belongs to Castiel.

"Dean. Are you okay?" Hazily, Dean pushes himself up on his elbows and looks around. There are the corpses of some unsuspecting vamps scattered here and there. Dean wasn't even sure Cas could kill vamps, but the dude's an angel, what can't he kill? He shudders at the thought. Gotta be something bad if even Cas can't kill it.  
He becomes more aware of the hand on his chest and brings himself to back reality and the angel perched in front of him.

"Huh?"  
"You're bleeding. I took care of the nest. Why didn't you wake Sam? You shouldn't have come here alone."  
Dean rolls his eyes and lies back on the ground.  
"Get out of it, Cas. I feel like I just went ten rounds with Bane."  
"Bane? I don't understand. What is Bane?"  
Dean half groans, half chuckles at Cas' ignorance. He's really gotta make time to introduce him to some DC.

After a moment, when Dean has caught his breath and his head doesn't feel like it's about to spin off its top, he frowns and feels his face. Sure enough, when he moves his hand away, he can see blood flecked across his skin.  
"Is this mine?" Nine times outta ten; it's not. Well. Maybe seven. Okay, six.  
Four at _worst_.  
"Yes." Cas' voice sounds... odd. Dean frowns and sits up. He notices Cas' adams apple bob quickly as he shifts a little uncomfortably.  
"Cas... what's with the staring? What is it? What's wrong with my face?" Dean feels around frantically for brutal injury, despite not feeling any pain (figures, he's got an angel to heal him), but stops cold when Cas reaches and grabs his wrist to pull it away.  
"There's nothing wrong with your face, Dean."  
"Uh." Now is about the time when Dean reminds Cas of personal space. He usually comes up with a witty quip. Cas normally nods awkwardly and steps back. He continues to stare, sure. Never just sit there. Cas cocks his head to the side. Dean is sat on the ground, with an angel between his legs.  
His brain has stopped functioning.  
Blue eyes flicker down to broken lips, where a small trickle of blood has escaped. A slowed stream of blood from his noise joins the trickle and they both come to rest in the little crook between Dean's lower lip and his chin.

Without warning Cas leans forward and licks the blood off, leaving behind a strange sensation on Dean's lips where he gently sucked and healed the wound.

Dean stares.

Cas stares back.

"Did... did you just... I-" Dean stutters and comes to a halt. Words are failing him. Everything is failing him. Everything apart from the tugging sensation in his gut. They continue to stare at each other for a long time. Cas never takes his eyes off Dean's face.

Dean opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words emerge. His mind is racing but his face is still in a state of shock. It wasn't _totally_ bad. He's certainly had worse kisses. He's definitely had worse kisses. It's not that he hasn't even kissed another angel before, but to kiss Cas? More importantly, for Cas to kiss _him_? Cas. Castiel. A freakin' angel.  
Kissed Dean.  
Actually kissed him. Not just kissed but... licked? Did he really just lick the blood off his face? And he definitely sucked his lip, there was definitely sucking going on. Dean realises his hand is tentatively touching the place where Cas sucked his lip and quickly drops it his side.

"Uh. C-Cas," Dean clears his throat and feels a heat rising up in his neck to his face, "What... what was that?" Dean refuses to blush because Dean Winchester does not fucking blush. Neither does he get flustered. He shakes himself a little. He ain't no _chick_. So he does what comes naturally; he gets defensive.

"I kissed you." Cas cocks his head to the side, in mild confusion. Surely Dean understood the principle of kissing?  
"Yeah, I get that, Cas," Dean gritted his jaw and took a deep breath, "But what the hell, man? Where did that come from?"  
"You were injured, Dean."  
Dean blinked. Cas continued to stare at him with the usual, _I already gave you the answer why are you still confused, Dean_ face.  
"Why didn't you just... use your usual angel mojo or whatever." Dean gesticulated around Cas in a general whatever-it-is-you-do fashion.  
"I did." Dean sighed. Sometimes it was like pulling fangs from a live vamp.  
"Whatever, look it doesn't matter. Let's just, go back to the motel and never speak of this again." He waited for Cas to move.  
He didn't. Dean had to make shooing gestures before Cas finally moved back and stood. Dean shook himself, rising to stand by Cas and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before gruffly shrugging whatever the hell just happened off.

They arrive back at the motel, Dean stepping away from Cas quicker than intended, Sam frowning at both he and Cas, before Dean gets highly defensive over fucking nothing and goes to grab a beer. Sam narrows his eyes after his brother and Castiel shifts awkwardly before disappearing with only a faint flutter of wings. Dean reacts to the kiss in the way he reacts to most things: denial, beer, and food. The thing is, Dean didn't particularly _dislike_ it. And he'd always sort of thought that if they ever did hook up (he swears he only ever thought about that once, maybe twice... possibly a few times) he would always be the one to initiate it. Not the other way round.

By the end of the day, after ignoring Sam's constant fucking questions, Dean slowly pushes the occurrence to the back of his mind to dwell on at a later time.

That was the first time Castiel kissed Dean.


	2. The Second

**A/N:** I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update! I had a total mind block and I'm still desperately trying to plan for NaNo which is a mere few days away. I have a slight head canon in this so just shhhhh pretend it's totally real and everything will be okay. Have a cookie for your perseverance with this fic.

Part 3 is already written, so that will come quicker than this one. Enjoy!

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Dean knew they should probably talk about what happened at the vamp nest. He's pretty sure that it wasn't normal angel behaviour to launch themselves at an unsuspecting human. He was confused. It wasn't… _bad_. And it wasn't _not_ good. It was just… weird. Not weird, that wasn't the right word. Different. Not what he was used to. Odd.

Sam had gone to get food, he had been on strict orders of pie, beer, burgers. In that order. While he was gone, Dean kept thinking about what happened. What the hell triggered it? He'd been thrown around, killed a couple vamps, and then he must have been knocked out or something. He'd come to and Cas was just sat right there, looking all wide eyed and wired.

He knew Cas didn't get personal space, but that wasn't like him… normally he's all awkward and fumbling, trying to get the mechanics of what's acceptable and what's not. This time he wasn't even trying he just… did. It was almost more human of him to act on impulse, or at least he _guessed_ it was impulse. Cas had just suddenly from nowhere had lips all over his face and then he'd sucked… wow. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his face. Was this something Dean was into now? Was he into Cas? He'd always liked Cas, he may even in a totally non-sexual way love him… like a brother. Though the way he'd sucked at Dean's lips wasn't entirely brotherly and he didn't object… and it wasn't like he hadn't _maybe _thought about Cas in that way the odd few times.

Dean cleared his throat and shook himself. He jumped half outta his skin when he heard a voice behind him.  
"Dean."  
He spun round and pointed his gun at the chest of a bored looking Castiel. "Jesus, Cas. I nearly had a freakin' heart attack." Dean sighed and shoved his gun back onto the table.

"You seem perfectly healthy to me. Where's Sam?"  
"He's gone for food." Dean grumbled and moved to the fridge to grab one of the few remaining beers. Sam better get back fast.  
"What's the issue?" Cas tilted his head in confusion and Dean gritted his jaw; he didn't find that endearing. He _didn't_.  
"What?"  
"You called me."  
"Nope." Dean frowned and dropped onto the crappy motel bed. He took a swig of his beer. He should really say something. Now was the perfect time.  
"You did… you were thinking my name Dean."  
"Yeah but I was just thinking over things… wait, does that mean that you know what I'm thinking?" Dean gulped and cleared his mind. He tried to think of anything but the dorky angel in front of him. Pie. Demons. Porn. _Anything_.  
"Not exactly. It's more of a… vague impression. Only when you're thinking about me." Cas gave a sort of half shrug and was looking intently at something behind Dean's shoulder. Dean wasn't sure he was telling the truth. Could angels lie? Dean thought of Cas quite a lot. He thought of Sam, and jobs, and a hell of a lot of things he felt awful about, but he did think of the better times. The good times. With him, and Cas, and Sam. So why didn't Cas appear all the time?

Dean almost said this but bit his tongue; it was a sure fine way to make him sound like a love struck teenager. Dean frowned. If Cas got a vague impression of what he was thinking, how vague was he talking? Just words or images too?

"Was that all, Dean?"  
Dean looked up from his beer. Castiel looked bored.  
"Oh. Uh… yeah," he shrugged but then changed his mind, "actually, Cas, aren't we gonna, y'know, talk about what the hell happened?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"In the vamp nest. When you… y'know." Dean gesticulated towards Cas as if that would provide an explanation. The images hurled themselves at Dean, and he cleared his throat, hoping this vagueness Cas was talking about really was as unclear as he'd implied.  
"Kissed you?" Dean rolled his eyes, reluctant to say it outloud.  
"Yeah kissed, whatever. Aren't we gonna talk about that?"  
"What is there to talk about, Dean, I'm afraid I don't understand."  
"Dude that wasn't normal."  
"Humans participate in this all the time, Dean. You frequently-"  
"Yeah yeah okay but this was different, man. You're my friend. It was…" Dean tried to find a word which wouldn't offend, nor would suggest he was lying. He liked it more than he was willing to admit. The sucking sensation from the kiss flared up in his mind again.

"Unpleasant?" Dean was sure he could detect a hint of disappointment, but he couldn't be sure.  
"No… not really." He gritted the words out reluctantly. This was getting too weird. Not only that, but his thoughts had turned more… intense. "Cas how vague did you mean before? When you said you could mind meld me without the touching or whatever."  
"Mind meld?" Cast cocked his head and frowned. "I don't understand-"  
"That reference. Right okay. The knowing what I'm thinking thing? How vague is vague?"

This time, Castiel looked uncomfortable. He awkwardly shifted from side to side, a gesture so achingly human, Dean almost dropped the subject. But he was beginning to over think things. What sort of things did Cas see from him? Did he know what he was thinking at that moment?

"Uh… it's very hazy. Apart from sometimes it's quite… clear." He looked at his feet. Dean pondered for a moment. It was embarrassing to think that Cas had seen what Dean had been thinking of since they'd kissed… and well, not just since then but not quite as, vivid, as the past few days. Then again, Dean knew of only one way to get rid of his embarrassment, and that was usually to joke about it or make it worse and laugh.

Dean decided to make it worse.

"So… if I were thinking of you, you get those images in your head?"  
"Essentially, yes. Usually if it's just a passing thought, it's fleeting and hazy, but sometimes if you're thinking… quite hard on something," again he shuffled from foot to foot, "it can be quite strong."  
"Huh." He nodded and took another swig of his beer. Then, he started thinking.  
Specifically of Cas.

"Dean was there anything-" Cas' eyes grew wide and he stopped abruptly. He closed his mouth, and swallowed, not taking his eyes off Dean. Dean meanwhile was enjoying the flush of pink that was creeping it's way across Cas' skin, the thought of removing his trench coat, and kissing his neck and jawline. Thinking of the way Cas would tilt his head to let Dean closer. The small escape of breath from his lips as Dean nibbled at his earlobe.

"Dean." His was sounded deeper than usual, if that were possible. Gruffer as if caught in his throat.  
Dean smirked, relishing being able to make an angel squirm. Castiel stepped forward, and opened his mouth to say something but Sam chose that moment to walk through the door.

"Dean I got your pie, and you better be damn grateful for it," Sam dropped the bags on the table and noticed Castiel for the first time, "Oh hey, Cas. What're you doing here? Everything okay?"  
For a moment there was an awkward silence. Sam stopped unpacking the bags and looked between Dean, who had a smug expression on his face, and Cas who looked bizarrely uncomfortable. Something had clearly gone down.

"Yes, Sam. Everything is quite well. I need to go."  
"Hey, wait! You might as well stay for a bit. I haven't seen you in an _age_, man. Be good to catch up." Sam gave Cas a one armed hug to try break the tension, and finished unpacking.  
Cas gave a small smile at Sam's brotherly affection towards him, and agreed to stay.

Dean sat opposite Sam and Cas while they 'caught up' or whatever it was they were doing. Gossiping like old women, whatever. He paid little attention to them, only grunting in appreciation at his food. When he'd finished, he watched them both talking. It was weird, but kinda nice. However, about ten minutes later, Dean had grown bored. He had no interest in the conversation and had begun to think back to what Cas had said. He'd reacted interestingly when Dean had thought of kissing him, and removing the way too many layers of clothing he wore.

For the next twenty three minutes (Cas knew the number exactly because he found counting helped him ignore the wave of images from Dean's mind), Dean continued to think of… _compromising _situations in extreme detail. By twenty three minutes and forty nine seconds, Castiel had had enough.

"Dean. If you do not desist immediately I will be forced to do something about it." Cas didn't sound exactly pissed, but he certainly wasn't happy. Dean bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from snorting.

"Uhh… what's going on?" Sam said slowly, looking warily between the two. He knew something was up, and from the way Dean was blatantly trying his hardest not to smirk, he guessed there was some sort of battle going down between them.

"Dude, what're you talking about?" Castiel continued to glare, though the edge was somewhat less effective with his skin flushed as red as it could possibly be.

Castiel gritted his jaw.

"Okay whatever it is going on between you two, you can sort this out when I'm not here. Dean quit doing whatever you're doing," Sam held up his hand when Dean opened his mouth to protest, "It's clearly bothering Cas."  
There was a moment of silence, Dean looking distinctly like he was sulking, while Cas looked like he was trying to cool down. Sam hasn't seen Cas look that pissed in a long while.

For a while, everything went back to normal. Dean flicked through a car magazine that Sam had picked up, while his brother and Cas continued their conversation. Sam really thought Dean had let it lie until, out of nowhere, Cas suddenly groaned and stood up to stare at his brother.

"I warned you, Dean." Sam could see the challenge in Dean's eyes. Though he didn't quite know how to react when Cas swooped down, grabbing Dean's face, and kissed him. There was a muffled sound of surprise from Dean's direction.

Sam watched Castiel wipe the smirk from his brother's face and had to refrain from snorting. He didn't know whether to pat them both on the back or run from the motel; they'd both become a little too intense for Sam to be awkwardly stood there. He politely stood up and removed himself from the room.

That was the second time Castiel kissed Dean.


	3. The Third

**A/N: **I'm really glad people are enjoying this. It doesn't really have a plot or anything to it but aw u guys r qts. I'm not sure when the next update will come (I have a lot on my plate rn including NaNoWriMo), but I will try my best.

This continues angst sigh but I'll try an amusing or saucy chapter next I swear.

* * *

Everything had gone wrong. As usual. Someone had fucked up and it had all gone to the dogs, resulting in more deaths than the Winchesters were comfortable with. People had died. Genuine, unpossessed, none super-freaked people. All because Dean had gone in at the wrong time. Sam kept trying to tell him that it wasn't his fault, because it wasn't; if the woman hadn't have screamed way too early, everything should have gone smoothly. Of course it didn't help that there were demons hiding around every fucking corner, waiting for the unsuspecting brothers.

But Dean was never a one to listen to reason. Sam had gone back to the Impala after much insistence from Dean that he just needed a minute. Dean knew there was gonna be a 'talk' when he went back to his baby, and him and Sam would argue about what had happened, their feelings and how it wasn't Dean's fault nor was it Sam's, it just happened like it always fucking does, and then they'd eat some crap and drink some booze and that would be that. Dean grimaced at the thought.  
They hadn't spoken about their 'feelings' for a long while, and the idea never really filled Dean with glee.

Dean let out a low breath and stared at the wall opposite, resting his head against the doorway behind him, listening to the soft thud sound like a gun shot in the silence of the warehouse. Why had it gone so wrong? All they'd had to do was get in, gank the psycho that was snatching adolescent dark haired boys for he didn't even want to know what, and get out. Then of course the woman screamed earlier than she was supposed to and they later discovered that of course, as per fucking usual, they'd be sold out to some demons that were under Crowley's orders.

Why did it always go wrong? Why was there always something that just made it that much more fucking difficult for them? All they ever did was try to save people. Save their goddamn lives, without asking for anything back. Couldn't they have a break? Just for _once_, just one time for it to go exactly how they planned, for no one to die, and for it to be okay?

Dean searched the wall hopelessly for an answer as if it would appear in huge bold letters: IT'S BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE DICKS AND I HAVE A STRANGE SENSE OF HUMOUR, ALL THE BEST, GOD. Dean shook his head. Even with his usual, _make a joke and laugh like it's okay when really it hurts like a bitch _technique wasn't working.

Dean swore under his breath and closed his eyes.

To Dean's right, standing against the wall, stood Castiel. Watching him.  
Castiel didn't normally land in on private moments when it came to the Winchesters. He understand privacy (despite Dean's disbelief of this), and tried to only appear when they were usually not too busy and watching television. Today, he had sensed Dean's emotions coursing off him in waves, to such a strong degree Cas could have felt it from several lightyears away. He was worried.

He watched the emotions carefully as they washed over Dean's features. Pain. Anger. Self loathing. Desperation. He stood watching as Dean closed his eyes, and could feel the bitterness rolling off him. After a moment, after Cas had given Dean what he felt was necessary time, he walked to stand in front of him. This time, Dean didn't flinch. He opened his eyes and looked straight into Cas' own.

Dean looked tired. Cas frowned.

Then he stepped closer and pressed his lips lightly to Dean's forehead. To his temple. Over a cut which had narrowly missed his eye. He kissed his cheekbones, subtly licking the blood away. His nose. The corners of his mouth, and finally, his lips. Cas removed the blood that lingered with his tongue, and sighed softly into his mouth. Dean didn't move. He didn't protest, nor did he say a word. He closed his eyes and tried to relish the feeling.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, and Dean returned the gesture, resting his head on Cas' shoulder and losing himself inside the angel's warmth. Castiel squeezed Dean lightly, and his lips found his ear before speaking to him in a gentle, loving voice; "You are a good man, Dean Winchester."

That was the third time Castiel kissed Dean.


	4. The Fourth

**A/N: **No matter what apology I give I think you'll all still want to hurl something at me SO INSTEAD HAVE SOME ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE ENTIRELY THERE SMUT. SEXY TIMES ENSURE.

* * *

In the back of his mind, Dean had a voice telling him that he wasn't remotely irish apart from maybe the drinking, so what the hell was he doing celebrating Saint Patrick's day. He had a feeling that this voice was in fact Sam, and he wasn't completely positive that it was in his head either. He had dragged Sam and Cas, much to both of their horrors to a small bar, that was brimming with the colour green, freckled chicks, and alcohol. While Sam had increased his bitch face up to maximum capacity, Cas' eyes had grown as wide as saucers, whispering something about sins and disappeared to a table in the furthest corner.

Dean felt a nip at his elbow and he turned to find his brother mouthing something at him.

"Dude, what?" Sam opened his mouth but Dean flapped a hand and shoved past him before any sound could reach his ears. He had ended up somehow buying drinks for what seemed like the whole bar, and received many cheers and claps on the back for doing so. While it was a small thing, it gave Dean a warm feeling in his stomach, though that might have been the shot of vodka he'd just consumed.

For what felt like hours, Dean drank. Alcohol and sarcasm were his coping mechanisms in life, and tonight was no different. He drank to push all the crap aside. He drank to forget how neither of his parents were alive, how he had been more like a father to Sammy than John had ever been, how no matter how hard they tried people always seemed to screw them over and stab them in the back, the latter sometimes quite literally. He drank to forget the monsters and the nightmares. He drank to forget himself.

Sam and Castiel watched from the sidelines as Dean drank himself further into a coma.

"I think we should stop your brother." Castiel's gruff voice came from beside Sam. He detected a large amount of concern and noted that he sounded quite scared.

"I can't say I don't agree with you, Cas." Sam frowned, watching the scene unfold before them, "Oh no."

"What is it?"

"I think someone's challenged him to a drinking competition which can only end badly. We gotta get him outta here." Sam sighed and finished his drink, before getting up, squaring his shoulders, and heading over to his brother.

"… makes you think you c'n beat me?" Dean pointed an accusing finger at the chest of the man opposite him. The man in question laughed loudly, which in turn was chorused by his group of friends.

"I'm irish, you couldn't drink 'alf what I drink!"

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed his brother's arm.

"Dean, don't."

"Sammy!" Dean pulled his arm free and wrapped it around his brothers shoulders somewhat awkwardly considering Sam's height. Sam then began the long process of trying to remove Dean from the bar. After much arguing, laughing, and occasionally apologising, Sam managed to pull Dean out the door. Sam held tight to his left arm, while Castiel gripped his right.

"You have had way too much."

Dean grumbled something incoherent while they half dragged him to the impala. Sam pulled the keys from Dean's pocket, and stuffed him into the back seat. Sam was going to suggest that Cas sit in the back to make sure there was someone to restrain him if he tried to do anything stupid, but unsurprisingly he beat him to it, and was already sat beside Dean, patiently waiting for Sam.

Dean had said something about driving and made a weak protest into climbing into the driving seat, but Cas firmly pulled him back and Dean ended up falling asleep on Cas' shoulder, snoring softly. Sam thought Cas looked silently pleased with himself. He had noticed the two become exceptionally more… together than they had before, and while Sam was totally okay with this, he would just appreciate it if it weren't when he was in the room. Or the building.

When they reached the motel, Sam helped Cas remove Dean from the car, who woke up feeling only a little drunk and no where near as hammered as he had been previously.

"Dude are you sure I was that drunk?" Dean asked as Sam told him of his narrow escape in a drinking competition of which he had no hope of winning, "I don't feel that drunk." He paused, "Cas did you use your angel mojo or something?"

"I may have helped in the disappearance of the alcohol in your system." He gave a sly smile, something that both the Winchesters found strange looking on his face. After a moment Dean shrugged and finally seemed to notice his attire as they waited for Sam to unlock the door.

"Where the hell did I get this?" He pulled at the shirt which was horribly tight and a garish livid green. "'Kiss me I'm Irish'?" Sam snorted as Dean read the slogan on his shirt. He was about to tell his brother how an attractive freckled woman who Dean was entirely not interested in had demanded he remove his shirt and replace it with the one he was now wearing when Castiel cut him off.

"You're not irish, Dean."

Dean was in the process of rolling his eyes when Castiel barrelled into him and kissed him. His hands wound themselves around his neck, and Dean stumbled backwards taken aback but the sudden bodyful of angel he had against him. Sam groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh my god." He shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and winced at the noise his brother made. Sam was beginning to feel the need to throw up. He shoved open the motel door and threw the key inside. He backed swiftly away from the two, mumbling something about going for a drive and forced himself not to cry when he heard Castiel make a noise he never wanted to hear from an angel in all his life, let alone _him._

Meanwhile, Dean fisted Castiel's trenchcoat and pulled him into the motel room, kicking the door closed behind him. Cas clawed at Dean's shirt, biting and sucking on his lips with such vigour that Dean's knees felt suddenly very weak. Dean shoved the trenchcoat off his shoulders and grabbed the lapels of his jacket pulling him towards the bed. In turn, Castiel very nearly ripped the shirt over Dean's head and grabbed at his skin, moving his lips to kiss his jawline and then neck. Dean groaned as he grabbed at Cas' own shirt, incredibly frustrated at quite frankly disgusting number of layers.

"Why are you wearing so many fucking clothes, Cas?" He growled as he threw off the tie, distracted by the sudden sucking on his neck.

"Because, Dean," Cas moved his mouth to kiss Dean's collarbones, "It is not socially acceptable for humans to walk around naked."

The word naked should not have affected Dean like it had, not at all, and yet he felt a spark of heat pool in his abdomen as the words left Cas' lips in a positively obscene tone of voice. Cas lifted his head and stared at Dean and damn it if he wasn't only ever only going to be able to see _that_ look whenever Cas looked at him again.

"Shirt, Cas." Quick as a flash, Castiel removed his shirt, and dropped it on the floor, his eyes never leaving Dean's face. There was a moment of hesitation, a pause, a second of unsurity where Dean questioned how drunk he really was, but then it was gone and lips were crushed against lips, skin touching skin, sparks flying and his mind stuttering. His heart seemed to stop altogether when Cas pushed him down onto the bed and his hand slid down to Dean's crotch. Cas kissed him with bruising intensity while his hand palmed his jeans.

He very nearly whined when Cas removed his hand but then there were lips on his chest, and hands swiftly unbuttoning his jeans. One of Dean's hands found their way into Cas' hair and took tight hold while the other desperately tried to find purchase on the bed sheets. Now Cas began to slow things down and Dean was painfully aware of the lack of anything against his groin. Lips kissed and nipped along his collarbones and shifted slowly to his chest, the occasional teasing suck on a nipple, the brush of fingertips and hot breath. When Cas lifted up from Dean so that he was not only not touching but fucking _hovering_ above him, Dean whimpered and snapped open his eyes not remembering when he'd actually closed them.

"Jesus, Cas, don't st-" before the words could escape he was cut off by his own voice breaking into a groan as he felt Cas press his erection against Dean's own. His vision blurred for a moment and when it cleared he was aware of Cas' flushed face, his own eyes fluttering a little, but there being a distinct smirk on his lips. "You fucker." Cas' eyes widened and Dean's voice, which was definitely a few octaves lower than before, sent a shot of a pure wanting _heat _to Cas' dick.

Dean pulled Cas down and kissed him, slipping his tongue into his mouth as Cas began to incessantly grind against Dean like a fucking teenager. It wasn't until Dean managed to elicit a moan so filthy from Castiel, _an angel of the lord_, that Dean really began to lose his control. Castiel then began to really bite, to the point of drawing blood, like he was punishing Dean for causing him to create such noises. He bit and sucked away the blood, hands fondling and teasing, just barely touching causing Dean to make noises he would never admit to making. They pushed and panted, bit and clawed, groaning and whining as the other worshipped them in ways neither had experienced.

They fucked almost to the point of destruction, but they were there to save themselves in the process. As they both neared their climax, visions went white, noises escaped that were never forgotten, and they tipped over the edge into utter blissful pleasure together.

That was the fourth time Castiel kissed Dean.


	5. The Fifth

**A/N: **I figured if I'm uploading a new story I can surely at least finish this one. Because I'm utterly lame, I'm gonna give y'all a surprise. But you'll have to wait and see.

* * *

After Sam and Dean had finished yet another job, ganking some under-the-bed/stuck-in-the-closet kind of monster from the deepest darkest corners of children's nightmares, they had both slumped into the Impala and drove back to the motel. Sam immediately collapsed on the bed, earning Dean a pillow thrown at him when he tried to ask if he was okay. Try hard as he might, Dean couldn't sleep. Giving up at god knows what time in the morning, he wrote a note for Sam leaving it on the table, grabbed his keys and drove. He drove without thinking where he was going. He drove in silence, letting the purr of his baby sooth his racing mind. He was surprised when he found himself parked in a graveyard. Not just any graveyard, he wasn't quite that insane just yet. No, it was the graveyard where John was buried.

Dean snorted and got out of the car.

He found his way to the headstone and let out a long breath. "Hey, dad." Dean didn't do this. He didn't talk to the dead (okay well sometimes he did but that came with the job), he didn't talk to himself much, and he never talked to inanimate objects. But here he was, talking to his dead dad. John would have probably chided him for it.

He found himself gruffly retelling the happenings of their latest hunt, voice sounding desperately like it wanted approval. He just needed something. He needed a sign that he was doing okay, that he was looking after Sammy well, that he was doing John proud.

"Sammy was great, dad. You should have seen him... 'course got knocked on his ass more than once but he's okay just tired y'know? We both are." Dean rubbed his hands over his face in attempt to erase the coming tears. "Why'd you have to goddamn die. You're supposed to be here shouting at me for being an arrogant dick, or at Sammy for being such a book worm. You're supposed to be being a _dad_."

Dean laughed and turned away. "Not that you ever really were, were you? Not properly anyway. You never played baseball with Sam, you never taught him how to ride a bike. None of that crap. Just shoot first think later," He kicked at the dirt beneath his feet and shook his head muttering to himself; "Stop being a damn girl, Dean." That's what John would have said, because no matter what, Dean would always love John. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and walked back to the Impala. When he arrived he found Cas sat on the hood.  
Dean wasn't sure if he was angry or relieved to see him.

"Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean." He turned to look at him in the now lightening sky as Dean sat next to him. They sat in silence for a while, Castiel never taking his eyes off Dean's face who had his eyes closed and tilted up to sky. After a moment he spoke.

"He was such a jerk. He never gave us a childhood. He brought me up to anger and guns and revenge. That's why I tried to keep Sam away from it. So he could at least have some good memories of being a kid. Little dork cried like a baby when I tried to teach him how to ride. Fell off after two seconds and I had to give him freakin' stitches." Dean laughed softly and opened his eyes. Cas was still looking at him; no surprises there.

"You're a good brother to him, Dean." Castiel's voice was gentle and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dude you don't need to try make me feel better. I'm good."

Castiel sighed. If Dean hadn't known any better, he'd almost say it sounded like he was annoyed. "I wasn't trying to make you feel better. I was stating a fact."

"I never knew you were such a squishy romantic."

Castiel frowned and Dean rolled his eyes. Despite this, he was making Dean feel better. His presence alone was making him infinitely less wired and pissy. They sat in silence for a while longer, the only movement around them appearing when Cas awkwardly patted Dean's hand and held it thereafter.

"I sensed that you were uncomfortable so I followed you. I don't know why I waited here. It felt it was the right thing to do." Cas finally broke the silence, as the sun made its first appearance over the horizon.

"Thanks, Cas. I appreciate it, man."

"I have something for you," Cas said, suddenly standing up. He seemed oddly determined if not somehow more awkward than before. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes." He stared at Dean, making unnecessary emphasis on each word. Dean sighed and compiled. "Count to three."

"Cas what-" He opened his eyes and found Cas glaring at him.

"_Dean_."

He snapped his eyes shut. "Alright alright, keep your panties on. One two-"

"Slowly, Dean." His voice was suddenly closer, and a lot, lot lower. Dean gulped and resisted the temptation to open his eyes again.

"You know I get all tingly when you take control like that." Dean chuckled nervously, and could almost hear the eye roll from Cas. _Play it cool, Winchester. _

"One..." He thought, but couldn't be entirely sure, that Cas had moved closer to him. That he was stood right in front of him, in between his legs.

"Two..." No he had definitely moved closer. A brush of fabric on his thighs on confirmed that. His heart began racing, blood rushing through his veins quicker than he was sure was healthy.

"Three." His voice came out as the barest of whispers. There was a second of nothing, the suspense almost making Dean cave, before the softest of kisses presented itself. It was so achingly tender and gentle that Dean very nearly whined at how disgustingly sweet it was. With a soft peck, the pressure was lifted and he opened his eyes.

"Where did that come from?" He said quietly, threading his fingers through Cas' own.

"I saw it in a film." For a moment Dean stared, before he barked out a laugh and shook his head. Cas smiled unsurely.

"God, you really are a freaking gushy romantic."

"Don't blaspheme." He said gently before leaning forward to kiss him again.

That was the fifth time Castiel kissed Dean.


	6. Bonus Chapter

**A/N: **SURPRISE BONUS CHAPTER FOR BEING A GIANT ASS AND MAKING YOU ALL WAIT SO LONG. I LOVE YOU ALL I'M SORRY.

* * *

"Dude, no. Please _no."_

"Look, I know that you don't like Christmas," Dean snorted but Sam persevered, "Neither of us do, but this is our first one with no world wars or apocalypses or whatever hanging over our heads. We should do something."

"Exactly! So we shouldn't spend it sitting around a freaking tree playing happy families with shitty television and ugly sweaters."

"Are sweaters mandatory at Christmas? I wasn't aware of this." Castiel frowned at them both. As far as he knew, Jesus had never worn sweaters.

"What?" They both turned to look at Castiel. Dean sighed and took a swig of beer. Sam tried to explain.

"They're pretty traditional. It's not Christmas without bad jumpers being given as presents. That and Dean drinking himself into a coma on eggnog."

"Hey, eggnog is awesome. All I'm saying is, it's a nightmare. There's decorations and trees and pine needles everywhere and the food gets burnt and then everyone argues and it's just generally shitty. We're not doing it."

"Dean. It's also your first Christmas not in the closet with your big gay angel perpetually perched on your shoulder." Sam said exasperated at his brothers continuous refusal. Dean choked on his beer. Castiel said "I'm indifferent to sexual orientation, Sam. Dean insists he's not gay; it's only because I'm the one." he made little air quotations around 'the one'.

"Shut up! Both of you!" Dean practically shouted, jumping up from his seat looking like a deer in the headlights. "I told you that in confidence, Cas, you can't go blathering that around to just anyone."

"But Dean, it's not just anyone it's your brother. You said that I can tell Sam anything. Anything but the sex." He amended frowning up at him. Dean spluttered, ignoring the "Oh my god" from his brother, and blurted something about going out. He grabbed his keys and ran from the room.

When he finally returned, Castiel wasn't there and Sam was already in bed, reading some no doubt hyper complicated book containing endless ways to humiliate his brother. He muttered goodnight, and promptly threw himself onto the bed and went to sleep.

They awoke the next morning to the smell of burning.

Both jumped up and ran out of the bedroom, stopping in their tracks as exited the room. Everything was covered in decorations. Not just any decorations, Christmas decorations. And they were _everywhere_.

"Son of a bitch." Dean stared at what now looked like a holiday advertisement.

"Do you like it?" They then noticed Cas stood in the tiny designated kitchen area. Wearing an apron. With santa on.

"Cas." Dean's voice broke a little, touched by the gesture and despite himself he smiled.

"I wasn't sure if it was enough. The salesman kept insisting that one could never have too much at Christmas."

Sam laughed and clapped Cas on the back. "It's more than enough, Cas. It's great, really great."

Cas smiled in an unbearably adorable manner, and Dean ducked his head when they met eyes because he couldn't stop fucking smiling and he was supposed to be mad damn it. The whole room was covered and from the smells that were wafting around the room, he was apparently burning every edible thing they had brought in.

"What are you butchering over there?" He asked finally lessening the smile that seem determined to stay on his face.

Sam glanced over Cas' shoulder and his face went pale. "Er, Cas... what exactly is it?"

"It's Christmas Dinner. I was following the instructions on the television but they went too fast. I think I may have missed a few steps." He turned brushed his flour covered hands on the apron, and frowned deeply.

"I think you should leave the food to us," Sam said carefully, then seeing his face quickly added "It's just you've done so much already. Let us do something for you, okay?" Cas opened his mouth but Sam held it up and directed him to the sofa. "You... stay there." Sam nodded and patted his shoulder before going to the kitchen to remove the burning turkey that was sat atop the frying pan. He'd tied a red ribbon around it, with a giant bow on top. Sam had to refrain from laughing, but managed to remove the mess. Dean helped by running out and collected a few supplies, mostly stuff that didn't need much cooking. When he returned, he thrust a glass of eggnog in Cas' hand commanding him to drink, before helping Sam pull together something edible for them.

While he would never admit it out loud, Dean was actually kinda enjoying himself, and yeah okay it was pretty nice to celebrate Christmas for once, even if they had a dorky angel that didn't know a whole turkey had to be cooked in an oven and didn't know how many decorations were too many.

When they had finished cooking (Dean continually filling Cas' glass every time he emptied it), they settled on the sofa and tried to go about teaching Cas how to play poker. In the end they gave up because he would keep showing Dean his cards and whispering very loudly if he'd won yet. And if Dean looked at him with utter infatuation every time he did this, Sam didn't say anything.

Eventually they sat Cas down at the table and served up their dinner. Happiness bubbled in the Winchesters, part from Castiel tasting each piece of food with absolute wonder (Dean admits he may have got him slightly tipsy), part from the overwhelming feeling over contentedness that they hadn't experienced in an unspeakable length of time.

After they'd eaten, and they were sat around the tree (Dean rolled his eyes at this cliché; he had a reputation to keep up after all) with glasses of alcohol in their hands, Cas mumbled something inaudible.

"What?"

"Presents, Sam. Presents are paramount at Christmas. The fat man told me so."

Sam frowned and mouthed 'the fat man?' at Dean who shrugged turn. Cas crawled forward, giving Dean an appreciated view of his ass, and pulled two very lumpy bulges from under the tree, covered in bows and stickers. He thrust the one that was covered in reindeer wrapping paper at Sam, and the one with Christmas trees and angels at Dean. Both the boys looked at their gifts in silence.

"Cas..." Sam trailed off and looked at the positively cheery looking angel who was sat with his legs crossed looking like, well, a child at Christmas. "We didn't know you'd got us anything, I didn't know we were doing gifts." He looked in alarm at Dean who was still staring the lump on his lap with a strange expression.

"I do not require any gifts. Spending time with my favourite people is all I need," He learned forward conspiratorially and said, "You're my favourite people." He smiled and Sam felt his throat close up. He felt very flustered and very overcome with this sudden love from a slightly drunken angel. He nodded and pulled off the paper from his gift, the colour draining from his face.

"Oh my god." He lifted up his present.

"I made it myself." Cas announced proudly, and damn it all, Sam just couldn't help but laugh and pull him in for a hug.

"It's great, Cas. Thanks." He pulled the badly knitted blue jumper over his head, laughing at the bong eyed moose on the front. "Really thank you."

At this point, Dean looked up and doubled over laughing. He clapped Cas on the back and Sam blushed.

"I don't know why you're laughing so hard, Dean. You've still got yours," Sam said defensively, "Besides I love it." He smiled widely at Cas who looked incredibly happy. Dean's laughed slowed and stopped. He opened his own. His own jumper, as badly knitted as Sam's, was very _very_ green with a wonky bright pink heart in the middle. But just to give it that extra kick, he'd wobbly managed to knit the words "Dean + Cas 4eva". Sam wasn't sure whether he should laugh, because the look on Dean's face was kind of embarrassing.

"I used Cas because you call me that all the time even though it's not my name which is very confusing. Do you like it?" He added quietly, watching Dean intently.

"It's..." Dean trailed off looking up. It was when Castiel did bit his lip in an achingly human way, that Dean pulled the jumper over his head and looked softly at his big blued eyed angel. "Come here." Dean leaned across, sliding his hand around Castiel's neck, and kissed him with as much love and adoration as it was possible to give.

That was the first time Dean Winchester kissed Castiel.


End file.
